Long, Long Time
by Mystgirl
Summary: Harry Potter can't stop thinking about a certain night with Draco, and both boys learn to deal with feelings that neither can understand. But Draco has an ultimate solution for what ails him.
1. Default Chapter

**_Long, Long Time_**

"Love will abide, take things in stride

Sounds like good advice but there's no one at my side

And time washes clean love's wounds unseen

That's what someone told me but I don't know what it means."

Harry Potter sat next to the window in his room, gazing up at the moon. He had always found that the bright glow soothed him, but tonight he was feeling as if he would never feel whole again. He had just recently begun his seventh and final year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and after the first few days Harry had begun to fall deeper and deeper into his anguish and pain. He could no longer live with his despair, nor could he forget what was causing him more emotional pain than he had ever experienced. At seventeen years old, Harry had already felt enough pain in his life to last longer than a lifetime.

Harry closed his eyes and tried to forget the memories that kept flooding back to him. For so long he had managed to put away the memories, to keep them high on an unreachable shelf in his mind. But the prospect of his schooling being over only a short time from now left him feeling as if he were nothing but an empty shell, void of emotion and love. He had spent the summer toiling with his emotions, doing all in his power to push them far back in his mind. But he could no longer run from the truth. The awful truth. He was heartbroken, and this left him utterly alone. Ron and Hermione just didn't get it. They didn't even notice. And that person whom he had fallen for was the last Harry had expected, a bitter person who, in turn, left Harry just as bitter, although possibly more so, Harry knew. 

Love wasn't something Harry Potter had been looking for, but it was certainly one of the most memorable things he had found here at Hogwarts. Harry was a stranger to the wonderful yet painful emotion. He had known love only as a young baby, before his parents were brutally murdered by Lord Voldemort. And hard as he tried, he couldn't muster up any memory of that love. He was sure his parents loved him, though, even if his aunt and uncle despised him. It was just too bad that they were the ones forced to care for Harry after his parents' deaths. And so Harry knew he was very lucky to find love at his age, the love between two people that keeps them longing for each other every minute of every day. Harry scowled when he realized that his love wasn't exactly returned. Because what he felt made no difference, for the one he loved was unattainable. But Harry knew the truth. Harry knew that deep down inside that the boy he thirsted for had to have feelings for him, had to feel how Harry felt. It was in his eyes. Normally they were cold and gray, but Harry had seen other emotions in them before, long ago. 

"Draco must love me," Harry murmured to himself. "I know he does."

But Draco would never allow himself to open up, Harry knew, and he was terrified of so many things that he just shut down and, in turn, shut Harry out. Draco was not his choice of love, not in the least, as the two boys had been enemies since school had begun. Harry even remembered when it first began, their hatred of each other. It was their first year, on the Hogwarts Express. Draco had offered a handshake to Harry and, remembering the blonde's attitude at Diagon Alley, Harry had refused. But Draco had been the first wizard of his own age that Harry had talked to. In fact, Harry well remembered how Draco had conversed with him lightly, Harry's identity being unknown to him. "How pleasant that was," Harry thought to himself, "and what if I had taken Draco's hand on the train all those years ago? How would the past seven years have unfolded?" Harry wondered. 

Harry shook the images of his first year from his head, craned his neck slightly, and saw that the other seventh years were sleeping peacefully. He turned back to the sky and watched the wispy clouds move past the moon. Just like that night so many years ago, when Draco had exposed his desires briefly but astoundingly. Harry closed his eyes and lost himself in the memory…

Harry was walking through the school that night during Christmas break in his fourth year. He wasn't able to sleep and came across Draco Malfoy sitting in the library, reading. Instinct told him to turn around and leave but Harry lacked the will to ignore even his enemy. To this day he couldn't place it, but something had drawn Harry to Draco that night. Maybe it was the candlelight reflecting off his white-blonde hair; giving him somewhat of an angelic appearance. This thought made Harry smile; because he knew it must have been the stark contrast of Draco's angelic appearance and his evil attitude that intrigued Harry that night. He often wondered what would have happened had he decided to turn and go back to his common room that dark, lonely night. But Harry had walked to Draco's side and sat down. At first, he Draco looked at Harry in shock, as if he did not understand why Harry would be within a ten mile radius of him.

And Harry didn't blame him. It was not often that Harry and Draco crossed paths alone. Harry had an odd feeling that, without other students around, Draco might act differently. 

But Harry assumed wrong, because Draco glanced at Harry with contempt and his face soured into a frown. He opened his mouth, ready to say something, and Harry prepared himself for an insult.

But instead, Harry watched Draco's face soften and a small smile crossed his pales lips. Harry decided that this was an act of friendliness but feared confirming this, knowing the Slytherin had never shown he was capable of friendliness towards Harry.

Harry smiled back and asked what was interesting enough to keep Draco reading in the middle of the night. Draco shrugged, closed the book, and said "I wanted to be alone and thought I'd read to get away from things for awhile. Why do you even care, Potter?," his eyebrow slightly raised in interest.

Harry sighed and agreed that he, too, needed to get away from his empty, depressing dorm room. He sat beside Draco and turned to him. And in that moment, they looked into each others eyes like neither had done before. Harry had never known what he was feeling then, but it was a general attraction to Draco and for some reason, Draco felt the same towards Harry. They were both lonely over Christmas break, Harry not returning to the Dursley's and Draco's father wanting him to stay and study more. Surprisingly, all of the other fourth year Gryffindors in Harry's dorm had gone home for Christmas, including Ron.

They chatted for a few moments, neither boy really knowing what to say to the other. Harry yawned and stood up to leave, Draco also stood as well. They began to split off toward their own common rooms after leaving the library when Draco stopped and turned toward Harry.

"If you want, come back to my room with me," Harry said impulsively, " I don't mean to imply anything but it would be nice for some company." At that, Harry turned and slowly proceeded down the hall. He had taken about four steps down the corridor when Harry felt a hand on his shoulder. Surprised, he turned to see a somewhat scared Draco behind him. "I'd like some company," he whispered, a small spark of genuity in his gray eyes, and follow Harry to the Gryffindor common room.

And so they began chatting while sitting in Harry's room, alone as everyone was home for break. Harry was staring up at the moon, wispy clouds floating by, when Draco said, "I like to look at the moon. Sometimes when I am troubled by my father or schoolwork I sit for hours at my window. I feel soothed by the light. And I feel less alone."

Harry turned and to his surprise, Draco slid right next to him. Harry placed a soothing hand on Draco's, and at that moment they were connected, fully understanding each other's need for a gentle touch and stroke of the hand.

Lonliness had swallowed both of them, and both felt the need for a friend. But not just a friend, a feeling that someone else wanted them, that someone else cared.

And Draco brought his hand up to Harry's chin and stroked his face. Harry, suddenly feeling slightly nauseated and weak at the knees, allowed Draco to caress his face. In the next instant, Draco had pulled Harry's face to his and kissed him. It was Harry's first, and Draco's lips felt pleasing to his own. Draco's tenderness has surprised Harry, and pulled him deeper into the kiss. Slow at first, the a little more forceful and hungry. He was beginning to feel things he hadn't felt before, and knew for a fleeting moment that if he was not careful, he would be in trouble. He hadn't known love before, and so didn't know what to expect. But he was slowly starting to feel what he knew could only be love.

Draco pulled away from the kiss and sighed. Harry felt a slight quiver as Draco ran his fingers through Harry's hair. 

"Draco…," Harry whispered softly, but Draco kissed him again. Longer this time, more passionate. He began to lean forward and continued the kiss for some time. Harry allowed himself to revel in the kiss. Draco's soft lips caressed his own and Harry was beginning to feel quite aroused. Soon he was lying back on his bed, Draco on top of him. Draco began to kiss his neck and, upon a reassuring look from Harry, began to unbutton his pajama top. Harry moaned with pleasure as Draco planted soft, sweet kisses on his bare chest. He continued this, Harry lying completely vulnerable, until he had reached the top of Harry's pants. He slowly removed Harry's pajamas and took Harry's arousal into his mouth. Harry felt pleasure the likes of which he'd never known, and within minutes Harry was brought to full release. After this had happened, Harry and Draco had experienced the most fulfilling and excruciating night of their lives. Draco seemed to know what pleased Harry, and both enjoyed the most amazing pleasure of their lives. 

Making love to Draco, Harry knew, was one of the best experiences of his entire life.

It was likewise for Draco.

They stayed in Harry's bed for some time after, every so often giving each other a light kiss. Harry moved his lips to Draco's eyelashes and kissed them. "Butterfly kisses," Harry said, somehow remembering them from when he was young. Very young indeed, as his mother used to do this to him to calm him as a baby. Draco smiled and whispered that Harry was lovely, and that no butterfly was more beautiful than he. Harry had smiled and admitted the same to Draco.

Draco dozed off and Harry watched him breathe rhythmically, in and out. He memorized his peaceful expression, and the feel of his soft, feathery blonde hair against his skin. Draco's smooth, creamy skin felt warm to the touch and Harry ran his hand along Draco's face. Draco gave a faint smile in his sleep at Harry's touch, and Harry sighed happily.

At one point, Draco's eyes fluttered open and he noticed Harry watching him. 

"Harry," Draco began, and stopped when Harry's eyes widened.

"You, you called me by my first name," Harry whispered, and then softly, "Draco..."

Draco smiled and said, "You've never been touched like that before, and neither have I. Why did you allow me to be the first?"

Harry returned the smile and whispered, "Because I wanted to."

And Harry knew from that moment on that he would never forget that night. The night he and Draco had made love for their first, and last, time ever. The only time Draco had opened up, and allowed Harry in. The only time passionate love was experienced by both boys, ever. And Harry knew that if he and Draco never reconciled, it would be the last time ever for him.

It pained Harry, even now in his seventh year, to remember that night. For days after Harry had been happier than he'd ever been in his life. But it was soon brought to an end when Draco had cornered him once in an empty corridor and forced him to promise that he wouldn't breathe a word of that night to anyone. Harry had promised and, since then, had stayed true. Harry had almost believed that Draco didn't care, but as Draco turned away, Harry saw for a single moment that Draco's determination wavered. His eyes, Harry saw, glinted with regret. Harry could see that Draco was trying hard no to cry.

From then on, Harry would steal glances at Draco once in awhile. But Draco always acted as if he and Harry were complete strangers. Harry knew the truth, though, because he could see it in Draco's eyes. The anguish, the despair. Draco was not happy, he was cold and broken. But too much was fencing him in, Harry had thought. He had erected walls around him, and there were too many things in his way. He would never have admitted to Harry, or anyone, that he had feelings. He was Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy, lover of nothing but hatred and cruelty.

Harry had forced himself to believe that it was just one night, one lonely night, and both had felt a hunger for touch, for love, for utter ecstasy. But Harry remained wounded from that night. He was shown love, he knew it, but the only other person who knew just couldn't admit the same. And poor Harry told no one, so his wounds remained unseen by all others. His own friends couldn't help him, they didn't know. But Harry was never the same after that night. He was lonely and broken, feeling as if he was one half of a person and Draco was the other half to complete him. Time did nothing to heal Harry's unseen wounds. For nearly three long, torturous years, Harry had been forced to watch his only love walk by him, unabashed. And Harry felt that the only reason he had made it this far was the prospect of waking every day, knowing that he would go to Potions and Draco would be there. 

But once they had completed their final year, Harry would no longer see Draco. That night that had changed Harry's life would be lost forever, a mere shadow of the past. A memory that would never allow him to fully love another. Harry was looking at an eternity of lonely, bitter nights, attempting to grasp that night in his mind and recall every detail.

But it was fading after so much time. And Harry knew soon it would be hard to recall that feeling he got when Draco was inside of him.

"Fool," Harry muttered to himself. He didn't know whether he meant it about himself or whether he was speaking of Draco. He settled on both.

Harry looked up quickly when Ron ran into the room, wondering if Harry was going down to dinner with he and Hermione.

"Yeah, I'm coming," Harry muttered, and silently thanked himself for being able to keep his normal attitude with Ron and Hermione. They hadn't ever suspected a thing about Harry and Draco's secret night, and even better still, they never knew of Harry's depression and despair. He was able to keep all of this to himself. "But not for much longer," Harry admitted to himself. He was near the point of breaking.


	2. Long, Long Time 2

"_Cause I've done everything I know to try and make you mine_

And I think I'm gonna love you for a long long time"

Draco Malfoy woke with a start, unable to remember anything about the dream he had been having. He scanned the room and realized that he was back at school for his final year, and that he had awoken before any of the other seventh year Slytherins.

He got out of bed and walked over to the window. The sky was a clear blue and the sun was shining brightly in on him, almost bringing Draco out of his sour mood. 

Almost.

Draco decided to get ready before waking the other boys, and did so. As he caught a glimspe of his robes lying on the floor, he had a quick flashback of the night he had tried so hard to forget.

"Because I wanted you too," he heard Harry's voice in his head. It was the night that Draco knew he needed to put away in his mind, yet the night Draco knew would plague him for the rest of his pathetic, miserable life. "It shouldn't be long," Draco muttered to himself unknowingly. 

He showered and dressed, and by then the other boys had been awake for some time and were ready to go down to breakfast. Draco, however, wasn't very hungry at all._ Well, in the matter of food, that is, _Draco thought to himself. Because Draco knew he had a hunger. He had grown accustomed to it ever since that night and it had been getting much easier to live with.

Until now.

Draco knew that the year would close and he didn't know where he would be at that time. But he knew one thing was for sure. _Harry won't be there, no matter where I am. _Draco sighed, coming to terms with that prospect would leave him in a dreary mood, not unlike his normal mood. _So no one will notice that I am miserable, _Draco thought. 

__

"Oh, but you know he_ will know, he can see right through you."_

Draco seethed at this thought, knowing full well that Harry could tell. And then he cursed himself for caring, like he had done so many times since that night. The night he cursed, yet the night that had shown him what he desired most. Love. Touch.

Draco shook the thoughts from his head as he walked to the Great Hall with Crabbe and Goyle. It was no use thinking about it now, Draco knew, because he could never allow himself to dabble in his own desires. It was his fate that Father would choose his own choices for him. Draco did not have the authority of running his own life, and knew that anything he wanted would surely be taken away from him by Father. In more ways than one, Draco loathed who he was, because he knew that he loved Harry and yet he would not admit it to anyone but himself.

Ever.

Because Harry may be his weakness, his indulgence for that one sweet night, but Harry was also the Boy Who Defeated Father's lord. He could not be forced to choose between Father and the Boy Who Lived. besides, even if he had the choice, it got hi nowhere. Father would kill him if he chose Harry, not only the defeater of Dark Lord, but a _boy_. He could never carry on the Malfoy line if he never had a child with a pureblood witch. 

Besides.

Draco had a reputation to uphold, a pride to honor and a family to obey. He could not be found dealing in minor relationships with petty goodie goodies, regardless of who they were. It was unheard of, and Draco was disgusted with the fact that he allowed himself to even consider it in the first place. He was, after all, a Malfoy. Nothing could change that, not even Harry Potter. And Harry would never understand that, not ever. He knew that Harry would expect him to change if they were to be any more than enemies. And while Draco had no intention of being a Death Eater, he had no intention of giving Harry the satisfaction of thinking he had something to do with that.

Harry. 

Draco had grown accustomed to thinking of him by his first name. Just since that night. He once had attempted to insult him and nearly called him Harry. Harry had given him a look of knowing, and smiled shyly. Draco had glared and walked off, momentarily blank of the insult had so cleverly come up with.

"Draco, earth to Draco," Pansy cried, tapping him lightly on the arm. He had been sitting in front of his breakfast, lost in thought. He stared down at his food and grimaced. 

"Well? What do you think. Draco?" Pansy questioned.

"About what?" Draco asked, annoyed.

"You mean you weren't even listening to me? What's your problem, then?" she screeched. Draco flinched and rolled his eyes. He turned his head slightly and caught Harry looking at him, eyes sullen and pleading.

Draco sneered at him and turned back, knowing full well that Harry's eyes were still on him, still pleading. He smiled at Pansy and, disgusted a little, placed his hand on Pansy's thigh. 

"Well, why don't you explain it to me later, after Potions?" Draco smiled sweetly. He glanced quickly at Harry and watched his face grow red in fury as he turned back to his own breakfast. 

Pansy looked at him, surprised, and smiled back. "Okay, then, Draco."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione prodded, "You look really angry."

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry snapped, and pushed his eggs around on his plate. Draco always had a way of ruining his day. All he wanted was for Draco to acknowledge his existance, but instead all he had managed to do was acknowledge Pansy's instead. Right in front of his eyes._ God, how I hate him, _Harry thought.

Liar.

__

"You no more hate him than he you. And the truth will never be masked by lies, you know. You can't hide form it any longer. Time is running out."

And time was running out. Before they knew it, their seventh year would be complete and they would venture off into their own world, he to the Light side and Draco to the Dark. And Harry just knew that Draco was avoiding his feelings for that reason. What good would he be to a future Death Eater except for a prize to the Dark Lord?

__

"You don't know that."

There was hope. Maybe Draco wouldn't turn as evil as his father. But maybe he would.

"Harry, we're going to be late for class, honestly, where do you boys go off to when you start day dreaming?" Hermione cried, frustrated.

Ron smiled at Harry and Harry nodded back. He knew where Ron's mind was, but he still couldn't figure out exactly where his mind was.

Draco.

Harry frowned as the name flickered through his mind. He swore silently to himself and left the Great Hall with Ron and Hermione, still wondering sadly why he could no longer push away his feelings for Draco like he could before. Why did they seem so urgent, as if every day that came, there was only a day left after to tell Draco how he felt. Like something terrible would happen soon and he had to reveal his true feelings. Or else.

Nonsense.

It was all just hitting him hard, because he knew it was their final year. He fought back the idea that he would never see Draco again after graduating.

"Time runs quicker, still."

__

"But why?" Harry wondered frantically. "_What does this insistence imply and why must it plague me like this? It never has before."_

No.

Harry could not understand why, but it felt as if he had no time left to talk to Draco. And the feeling had come on quite suddenly, one day he was fine and the next there was an urge he hadn't felt before. He had to come clean.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco sat in Potions, wondering how much longer Snape could drown on about God-knew-what potion. He fought the urge to glance in Harry's direction, wondering why he suddenly wanted to. He knew what that would cause him, a returned look from Harry, that hope gleaming in his eye like Draco would scoop him up in his arms and carry him away.

__

"That doesn't sound so bad."

Draco's face soured at this thought and he quickly wiped it from his mind. He knew how foolish it was to think about it at all, it would never happen. Besides the reason why he couldn't allow it, there were plenty others. Harry's friends hated him and, although he gave them reason to, he would never force Harry to choose between him and them. Draco knew Ron's type, stubborn and close-minded. Almost like Draco himself. Draco could just see it now: Potter in tears because the Weasel won't be his friend. And it would be Draco's fault for letting Harry fall for him. He didn't want to see Harry lose his friends anymore than he wanted to admit his feelings to himself. _It was only one night, for God's sake, why does it plague me so?_

Loneliness.

Draco knew all to well the answer to his question. He had been so lonely that night, no one to care, no one to wonder where he even was. But Harry had come into the library, and instead of turning and fleeing, he had come to Draco's side. _Always the noble Gryffindor,_ Draco had thought to himself.

"..Mister Potter," Snape muttered angrily.

Instantly Draco snapped out of his thoughts at the mention of Harry's name. He turned and sneered in Harry's direction, causing Harry's cheeks to tinge red. He watched Harry's face carefully as he looked toward Snape, a defeated expression crossing has face. 

"Yes, sir?" Harry uttered, somewhat nervously.

"I believe I asked of you a question, which you undoubtedly can't answer, as I see you were quite occupied with writing a note. A love letter, I presume?" Snape asked wickedly. "Care to share with the class?"

"Er, no, Professor," Harry said defiantly, tucking the slip of parchment into his robes.

"Very well," Snape growled. "For your selfishness, and unwillingness to pay attention, thirty points from Gryffindor."

Moaning could be heard form all around as the other Gryffindors heard the punishment. Harry was looking rather red, both from fury and humiliation. He glance at Draco and Draco nodded curtly, mouthing something along the lines of _How stupid can you be?_

At the end of class, Draco began to collect his books and, without a word, Harry came to him and pressed a piece of parchment into his hand. He turned quickly on his heel, gave Draco a reproachful look, and walked out.

Draco, a little caught off guard by the tingling that coursed through him from Harry's touch, continued with his belongings and quickly left the room, ready to throw the parchment back into Harry's face. He hadn't time for foolish notes, and was furious when Harry was nowhere to be found. He quickly unfolded Harry's note and felt his stomach drop.

Meet me in the Astronomy Tower, 9 pm tonight.

Do not be late and do not allow yourself to be seen.

Please. You know as well as I do that you cannot resist this.

Harry

Draco, overcome by surprise, didn't know what to do. For the first time in his life, he was about to do something that he knew was downright wrong. And he didn't have a choice in the matter.


	3. Long, Long Time 3

****

Chapter 3

__

"Caught in my fears

Blinking back tears

I can't say you hurt me when you never let me near."

Harry paced the Astronomy Tower nervously, stomach twisted in knots. He glanced once again at his watch and noted that it was five minutes until 9pm. An he knew that Draco would come, no matter how hard Draco tried to avoid him, he had to come. He sat in his favourite chair near the window that overlooked the Quidditch field. He allowed his mind to wander freely, and it finally rested on what he would possibly say to Draco. He barely knew what to tell himself.

Draco clutched the note in his hand, worn from re-reading it as the day had passed by. After reading it repeatedly, Draco realized that he was quite annoyed by the note. Honestly, why did Harry have to remind him not to be seen? _Obviously I know that, Harry. _And when was a Malfoy ever late? It seemed like Harry was treating him like a child, acting like he had to spell everything out for Draco as if he was his mother.

But he was the one who would walk Harry through their meeting. No way was Draco going to allow Harry to get to him. He knew what he had to do, it was the only way to resolve anything at all. Draco placed the note back ino his robes for good, no longer was he going to dwell on Harry's handwriting, Harry's urgent message. The day had gone and Draco felt no peace since Harry had somehow corrupted it with his need for....closure?

"Well that's certainly all I am going to offer him," Draco thought bitterly to himself. "No more pansy games and pleading looks. And no more burning eyes. And the more I make fun of those two friends of his, the more he'll have reason to hate me."

Draco nodded to himself and silently made his way to the Astronomy Tower, not realizing that the thoughts of Harry were enough to make him only a few minutes late.

Harry noticed, however, when Draco opened the door three minutes after nine. He watched Draco sweep elegantly into the room, and felt his stomach twist once more, making him wince slightly.

"You're late, Draco," Harry whispered, "But either way, I knew you'd come." 

Draco silently swore to himself for actually being late, something he rarely ever did, and looked knowingly ay Harry's smile.

"Ah, but it looks as if you think something pleasant shall happen, and I assure you, Harry, it won't. And it never will," Draco drawled.

Harry's smile flickered and Draco watched as he made a move to stand. "No, Harry, please just stay in the chair," Draco said and walked to the chair across from Harry's. He sat down and watched Harry's face as his words sank in.

"Listen, Harry-," Draco began, but stopped when Harry interrupted.

"No, you listen, Draco, " Harry practically screamed, "Ever since that night you have been insufferable. I thought it meant something, and I know I am right. Because I saw it in your eyes, when you told me to keep quiet. You did a very good job at acting, you know, because you definitely weren't as confident as you tried to make me think you were. I could tell, and you know it. I am the only one who could tell. And besides, you're here, and that says something."

"Yes, but it does not mean what you want it to. The reason I came tonight, _Potter_," Draco emphasized, "was not to tell you I want you. It was not to whisk you into my arms. I had to come because there was no other way to get it through your head that we won't ever happen. That the night we spent together meant nothing. If I hadn't come here tonight, to tell you this, then I could be damn sure that the next few months would be miserable for me as I dealt with your pleading looks and glances at me. I am sick and tired of this, get over it, because I can't stand you to the point where I don't even want your _eyes_ on me. I don't want them on my face, or even on my back. I might not see them but I can feel them and I loathe the very thought of you wasting your emotions on _me_."

Draco stood and watched Harry's stunned face. For a fleeting instant he wanted to sit back down and take Harry's hand. But the feeling was over as quickly as it had begun and he turned to leave.

Harry, unsure of what to do or say out of fear that Draco might break his heart more, if that was possible, watched Draco as he walked away. And at that moment, Draco spun around and cried, "You see? I can feel your eyes on me even now. What the hell is your problem, Harry?"

Harry stood up and was at Draco's side in an instant. He brought his face within an inch of Draco's, fury and pain wrenching it into a glare that turned Draco's insides cold.

"My problem, Draco?," Harry screamed, "What the hell is _your_ problem? You think you're so damn perfect, that you can do no wrong. That no matter what you do to hurt someone, it's okay because it's what you want. But you don't even know what you want, or else that night never would have happened. Don't think I can't see through you, Draco Malfoy, because underneath all of your ugly layers is a terrified boy who wants nothing more than accceptance and love. And you'll never get that. You will spend your life a lonely, miserable, souless human being because you pushed love away. You may as well call yourself a Dementor, Draco, because you basically do nothing but suck the happiness and laughter out of a room, and you can truly make people wish they were dead. You may be happy about that on the surface, but deep down it eats away at you until pretty soon you're reduced to nothing but a mindless empty shell. I pity you for what you will become, and I fear you for what you will do to obtain a small ounce of respect. Because no one respects you, you know, they just pretend they do to stay on your good side. I was the only one who cared and now I am paying dearly for it. You have yourself a nice life, _Malfoy_, I wish you all the luck in the world, though even magic couldn't bring it to you because you're bitterness runs too damn deep."

Harry smiled, satisfied at the surprised look on Draco's face, and pushed his way past Draco. He opened the door, turned and nodded his head at Draco, and left. 

"Harry...," Draco murmered. 

But Harry was gone.

As Harry made his way back to his common room, he toiled with a seemingly endless amount of emotions. Pain was the worst by far, much worse than the fading satisfaction at finally calling Draco out on his facade. He swallowed the lump in his throat and blinked back the tears that threatened his eyes. He felt fear for himself, and for Draco. He didn't know all that Draco was capable of quite yet, but he knew that he was powerful. And the final feeling that washed over Harry as he came in view of the common room entrance was a deep, aching, nagging emotion that riddled his insides with a cold, dreadful, stabbing sensation. Unrequited love.

Draco felt on the verge of tears as he slumped into one of the chairs in the Astronomy Tower. He lowered his head, tears nearly leaking down his face. He gripped the arm rest and could feel warmth. His breath caught in his throat as he realized it was the chair Harry had been occupying. He slowly curled up in the warmth of the chair, and closed his eyes. He lay there in Harry's lingering scent and allowed himself to cry, for the first time in quite ahwile. 

Harry was right, he knew. He had seen right through Draco, and Draco hadn't suspected him to be so sharp after being so harsh to him. He thought that Harry would simply nod and walk away.

Draco cried for himself, for Harry, and knew that he was nothing but a shell. He was as good as dead without his soul, and he knew Harry had ripped it away from him as he screamed the truth at Draco. He slowly realized how Harry now seemed to be like a Dementor, showing him his future as a meaningless lump of life, just like the Kiss of Death did to any human. Harry held his soul tightly and Draco knew the only way to be whole again was to give in to Harry. 

But he wouldn't. It was too difficult. There had to be another way out.

Harry lay in bed, wondering where Draco was at that moment. And he again relived the events of the night in his mind. He cursed Draco for making him hurt. He hurt in his mind, in his heart, his body. He physically felt as though he had been thrown to the ground and beaten by a bludger during a Quidditch match. He ached all over, from what, he wasn't sure. Possibly from the anger that had literally wrenched his insides when he was screaming at Draco, or maybe from the walk back to his common room, muscles clenched in fury and pain. Or possibly a little of both.

It almost felt to Harry as if Draco could have thrown him to the grown and beaten him senseless, and he would still have felt better than he did now. But Harry slowly allowed himself to realize that he couldn't really accuse Draco of hurting him, after all, he never even let Harry into his life to begin with. Harry had simply imagined that, after that night, Draco had opened to him. But he hadn't. Even though Harry knew that Draco had feelings for him, Draco would never admit it, and in that sense, he couldn't be accused of hurting Harry.

He could only be accused of allowing Harry to see that he was unsure of himself. Otherwise, Draco had never allowed Harry to be near enough to him to truly hurt him the way Harry felt hurt. That night was just an occurence, everything since was nothing Harry keeping hope that Draco was a different person inside.

He obviously was misled.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco awoke to find the moon shining in on him, and he quickly looked around. He was still in the Astronomy Tower, and it was obvious that some time had passed since his meeting with Harry. He didn't know how long he'd been asleep. He checked his watch and noted that it was half past two in the morning. He stretched, sore from being curled up in the chair for hours.

He thought back to the scene that had played out earlier.

I hate my life. I can't even do what would make me happier than I've ever been.

Draco had to admit that he never meant to truly hurt Harry. But in reality, Harry didn't know the truth and he wouldn't ever tell, so how could he have hurt Harry? By treating him the way he always had when they first met?

No, Draco knew that Harry couldn't accuse him of causing him pain. But it didn't matter whether Harry accused him or not.

He _had_ hurt Harry.

He had hurt _Harry_.

But why did he care at all? Draco knew that he had no choice in had no choice in his life, none that he could call his own. His father decided what happened to him. His father had already mapped out his future. He hadn't told Draco yet, but Draco knew for sure that he was going to be expected to follow in his father's footsteps. He was going to give his life, his everything to Lord Voldemort. His father would force him, no matter what.

Unless.

Draco knew his options. There were not many ways to escape the fate that his father had set for him. But there was one.

And the fact that he had just sacrificed his need and want for Harry because of his father, and his family pride that he could not let falter, for risk of being killed, made Draco's decision for him. He was determined not to let his father get his way. He knew what he had to do.

__

I won't hurt anyone anymore. Not Harry, not myself, not anyone. I won't be able to hurt.

And with that thought in his head, Draco strode happily back to his common room, confident in his own decision for once. Well, the only decision he would ever get to make for himself.

And within minutes he had fallen into a restless sleep. He dreamed of Harry.


	4. Long, Long Time 4

****

Chapter 4

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"And I never drew one response from you

All the while you fell all over girls you never knew."

Harry didn't sleep well that night. After he lay down, and closed his eyes, all he could see was Draco in front of him. The blonde had looked surprised, and Harry hadn't ever seen him look that way before. Not even when Draco had learnt that Harry had been made Gryffindor's seeker on behalf of his trying to get Harry in trouble in their first year at Hogwarts.

All he could see was the moonlight shining off his hair, his pale grey eyes shadowed by a mixture of pain and pride. A contrasting play of emotions in the Slytherin's eyes, constantly there though only Harry could see it. But tonight, tonight the pride was gone and it was replaced by pure hurt and shock when Harry had finally lost it and screamed at him. 

__

He almost looked as if he were about to cry.

And that thought struck Harry. hard. Whether or not Draco deserved it, it wasn't what Harry wanted. He didn't want Draco to hurt, he cared for him too much. But he knew that Draco needed to know the truth. And calm discussions were not common amongst them, Harry knew that. The only way to make him see was to finally get him to shut his mouth and listen. And listen he had.

__

I never wanted you to cry.

If Harry could have seen Draco after, he would know that Draco had finally been defeated.

I only wanted you to know what if felt like. To hurt.

But I went too far. And it hurts too much.

Harry rolled over and knew that he wasn't going to get to sleep. It was no use, he was too worked up. And so he sat up, looked out the window towards the Quidditch pitch, and silently walked to his chest and retrieved his broomstick. The only thing that would relieve him of some of his tension was flying. He always felt better in the air, and maybe if he flew fast enough, his troubles would fall behind.

The night was clear as Harry walked out, and the moon was full. The light cast seemed abnormally bright, and Harry's mind drifted.

__

I feel less alone.

Draco had told him that during their nght together. And Harry didn't blame him, the light of the moon was often comforting. But tonight, it cast down on him, all alone in the Quidditch field, as if it were pointing a wary finger at him, accusing him, mocking him.

And in that moment, ironically, Harry had never felt more alone in his life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco awoke with a start, the dream he had been having was unnerving. In fact, it was enough to scare him. 

He couldn't believe it, but it was too real. And he closed his eyes, trying to push the images out of his head...

__

Harry was flying, flying high in the moonlit night. The moon was so bright, it was almost blinding. All alone Harry soared, and Draco had been a bystander, watching him arc and glide as if gravity was a mere illusion. But something had happened, something Draco couldn't explain, and the gracefulness Harry always claimed while in the air disappeared and Harry began to look slightly weary, then his eyes closed for a split second, and that was all that was needed. Draco watched helplessly as Harry teetered on the Firebolt, and slipped off.

Draco tried to run foward to catch him, but he was being held back. Someone was holding his arms, and he couldn't move. He wanted to close his eyes, but couldn't, and all the while Harry was plunging to the ground, so fast. And Draco braced himself for the impact that he knew could do nothing but kill Harry. It was too high, too high.

Draco had cried out in alarm as Harry hit the grouns, and only then did the strong pair of hands let him go. He ran to Harry and prayed above all odds that he would be alive. And when he reached his side, he flung himself down to his knees and took his Harry's hand, searching for a pulse.

And he found none. And he screamed out for help, and he felt tears sting his eyes, and it was then that he turned and caught sight of the person who had held him back, the person who had prevented him from saving Harry's life.

And as Draco knew that he wouldn't fall back asleep again, he quickly got up and threw on a robe. He left the common room, hoping to retreat back to the Astronomy Tower and and just sit in his favorite spot on the windowsill, watching the moon. As he strode past the Great Hall, however, a beam of light shone through the window near the door and fell upon him.

It was exceedingly bright.

And Draco walked to the door, unsure of where exactly he was going, and went outside. He was drawn to the Quidditch pitch, and it dawned on him when he say Harry Potter, flying through the night. All alone. And the moonlight washed over him as he circled the Pitch.

Without thinking, Draco ran to the Pitch and cried out Harry's name. Alarmed, Harry turned his head and noticed Draco. The moonlight beamed off the blonde's head, and Harry was blinded for a split second. He closed his eyes for a moment to regain his vision.

Draco saw Harry close his eyes and screamed in terror. This was it. This was his dream.

He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again, hoping to find that Harry had landed safely on the ground. He gasped when he opened his eyes.

Harry stood in front of him, utter confusion and fear crossed his faced. And then he glared and said, "What was that all about, Malfoy? Were you trying to get me killed?"

Draco blinked and shook his head, "I-I-no-"

"Look," Harry frowned, "I'm sorry I was so hard on you before. But it wasn't like you had to come and scare me to death. Guess that's what I should have expected though, don't get mad, get even. Always a Malfoy."

"No," Draco began, "that's not it."

Harry pushed past him, anger flushing his face red. He stopped when a hand fell on his shoulder. He turned, prepared to see a look of murder on the Slytherin's face and a sharp insult on his tongue.

But wht he saw surprised him. Draco looke...relieved.

"Well, then, what?" Harry asked.

"Nevermind." Draco sneered, relief replaced with a cold sneer.

Harry turned and headed back to the school, followed quietly by Draco. The boys separated at the Great Hall without another word to one another.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry was miserably pushing his breakfast around his plate the next morning, wondering what new terror Potions class would bring today. Hermione was chattering on about Animagi, and Ron was stuffing baked beans into his mouth, trying to finish before it was time to head to class.

Harry lifted his head up when Hermione gasped, and saw Ron staring at a point over his shoulder. He turned around and noticed Draco, walking into the Great Hall considerably late. But then he noticed someone else with him. 

Pansy Parkinson was looking pretty smug, slowly alowing a smile to spread across her face as she walked hand in hand with Draco Malfoy.

Harry felt his heart plunge into his stomach and nearly choked on the small piece of toast he had finally tried to eat. He saw Draco's gaze flicker over the group of Gryffindor's and land briefly on him before he turned to Pansy and whispered something in her ear. Pansy giggled and they sat down next to each other.

Harry couldn't help overhear the conversation that followed.

"So, 's'bout time you two sgot together." Goyle said between mouthfuls.

"Yeah," agreed Crabbe.

And Harry thought he was going to be sick. Somehow he knew it was Draco's way of telling him that someone did care about him. Draco's way of arguing with Harry's little tantrum last night. He sighed and turned to Hermione, who was looking at him suspiciously. Her eyebrow raised at the expression Harry wore on his face.

__

Jealousy? Hermione said to herself.

And in the next instant, Pansy shrieked and said "Do you even remember when I was telling you about that, Draco? Do you ever listen? Sometimes I swear, you don't know me at all."

Draco told her to calm down and that yes, he listened. 

__

Only when I feel like it.

Harry heard this and told Hermione that he was going to grab something that he forgot in the common room before going to Potions. He had to get away. He couldn't take it anymore.

__

He doesn't even care about her. It's just a front for him.

Harry knew that much. Draco never even had a look of interest on his face when she was near him. She just imagined it.

He doens't care about you, either.

Harry swallowed the bitter truth like a pill too big to be swallowed. And he went up to his dormitory.


End file.
